Seth shrugged and gave her a faint smile. “So here we have a little girl growing up in a sheep pasture with no religious training or tradition at all, and then suddenly, a few days after menarche, she starts to have visions, starts to hear the word of God.”

“Well that’s certainly enough to get her martyred right then and there,” Zoe said.

Seth frowned. “I’d just as soon not start in on that tonight if that’s okay with you.” He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it

Zoe scanned his face slowly, her gaze returning to the limitless intensity of his eyes. Her face softened toward him, but when she spoke, her words carried the steel of her own convictions.

“Seth, you know by now that I’m not on your case, not personally anyway. But you know as well as I do that organized religion is not spiritual,” Zoe continued. “Religion kills, it divides people. It lies and cheats and steals and spends a lot of time covering up its crimes. Just look everywhere: Jews and Arabs, Orthodox rabbis setting themselves up as Hebrew ayatollahs to excommunicate other Jews, Sunni Muslims who kill Shiites, Catholics and Protestants killing each other and every damned one of them is as racist and sexist as a pickup loaded with Klanners. If there were a God and if God looked like any of the cartoons that these guys have created, then we’re in a lot worse trouble than anybody can possibly imagine.”

“Yeah, well…” Seth grumbled. “It’s an old story… in history, not to mention you and me.” He got up and walked over to the room service cart by the door and fiddled with the cork of an already opened bottle of Chateau La Gaffelière.

Zoe refused to let the issue drop. “And I really love that damned psalm about being beside the Rivers of Babylon that Joni Mitchell turned into a sweet little ballad,” Zoe continued as she got up and paced. “Only nobody remembers that at the end of the very same psalm it says ‘Blessed are they that dasheth the heads of thy little ones against the rocks.’ This was vicious. It’s genocide. If I believed in God, I sure couldn’t believe in one that tells me to kill babies.”

Seth quietly poured the wine into two glasses as she continued. Then, he walked over and handed her a glass. The intensity fled from her face as she looked at his open, concerned face.

“I’m so sorry,” Zoe said as she took the glass. “I got carried away. The headlines have been so upsetting lately

… all those smug, self-righteous people “ She let the thought dangle. They both understood.

“Peace,” he said. “At least for us.”

Zoe smiled and held out her glass for a toast.

“To you,” she said.

“You,” Seth said, and clinked his glass against hers. They both sipped at the wine and stood quietly together for a long moment.

“You want to go back to the manuscript?” Seth asked finally.